


A Song of STARS and Thrones

by Fan0fFIM17



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: A Song of Ice and Fire References, BAMF Darth Vader, BAMF Luke Skywalker, Dragons, Explicit Language, F/M, Fusion of Star Wars Legends and Disney Canon, Jedi, Multi, Other, Prince Luke Skywalker, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-06-15 00:26:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15400920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fan0fFIM17/pseuds/Fan0fFIM17
Summary: A Slave is finally truly made Free.Lost in a strange primitive Land, he takes advantage of his circumstances to rise to the position of King. A Slave, a Jedi Knight, a Lord of the Sith, Darth Vader, Anakin Skywalker, Father, Son, all this and more. Read as he Fights for the Iron-Throne!Winter Is Coming!





	1. Prologue: The Arrival & Revival

A storm was brewing over Westeros, the worst in human memory. So strong in fact that many would see it as retribution brought upon Westeros by King Joffrey "Baratheon" for having Lord Eddard Stark executed.

In realty, it was so much more.

It covered all of Westeros, heavy rain and lighting being spewed everywhere. The rivers, lakes, and oceans churned, frightening all but a few of the inhabitants. Hail was also not uncommon, while in the North it was snowing quite a bit a bit despite Fall only just setting in. For those beyond the Wall they would not hesitate to call it a blizzard. Meanwhile in Dorne sandstorms seemed to be predominant, though Lightning was a close second for them. This storm, later named Ned's Revenge, would kill hundreds of Westerosi citizens.

Those wise enough knew to stay inside, all but one.

A man named Arachnos was currently meditating in his home, a not too small not too large log cabin, about 20 Miles north of Dorne and 6 Miles east of the coast of the Reach in which it was situated. He owned, legally, 25 acres inside the Wolf's Bell forest, named for the abundance of Blue Bells & Wolfsbane growing there. He farmed and hunted for his food, and those foolish enough to trespass onto his land without permission, well, this was one of the many reasons he bread dogs.

He did not live alone. A young orphan girl called Sara lived with him, only 12. She had become a Daughter to him. She was small, no more than five feet. She had no figure to speak of and her hair was a dark blonde color, nearly brown. Her eyes were a haunting shade of green. Despite being petite, she was clearly a girl as she had an extremely feminine face, almost cherub like in it's innocence, and yet it was clearly false as the girl was not the pure thing she appeared to be.

On his bed (the one nearest to the front door) were two of his dogs, one female and one male, a small platinum blonde goberian with striking blue eyes named Mavis, and a large black beast with scruffy black fur. He almost looked like he could be a Direwolf, but he wasn't quite big enough. He didn't look too much like a wolf either. His ears were too long, his paws were white, the only distinguishing color outside of his black coat. His tail was also way more fluffy than a standard wolf, and his eyes were slitted like a cat or a lizards, though it was hard to tell as they too were black. His name was Zeref.

Finally there was Arachnos himself. He was only about 5,5 in height, his skin nearly as pale as snow. While his eyes were currently closed, those that know him knew his eyes are a passionate striking Blue, which stands out against his pale complexion. His hair was a dark Brown and reached to his shoulders. He also had a full scruffy beard covering his face.

While Arachnos is meditating Sara is cleaning up the remains of their dinner.

The layout of their home consisted of one large room split into two areas, one of which Sara currently occupied, and had a small square table where they ate, a tub for washing the dishes and ones body, a brick oven, and various containers for food stuffs and the things with which to prepare them. The other hath of the room consisted of a desk near the front door, and on the next wall were two beds that they slept in. Other than these things, there were a large number of candles around the room to provide light, 20 in all, spread out among the main room. The only other noticeable feature of the cabin was the Door at that back of the room, perfectly positioned at the center, in-between the beds and the dining table. One noticeable difference between it and the front door was the large iron padlock keeping it closed, and Arachnos had the only key.

Speaking of Arachnos, in his state of meditation he was clearly experiencing something. His brow was sweaty, his eyes were clenched shut and clearly moving behind his lids as though in the middle of a vivid dream, and his hands were currently wrapped around his knees so hard they had turned stark white.

{Inside Arachnos's troubled mind was a turbulent mix of images and sounds.} Stars, men fighting, the music of a swords clashing accompanied by a strange buzzing-hum, Stars, a baby, a little girl with a marred face, Stars, a familiar red comet, an odd sort of breathing, Stars, the roar of a beast not seen in more than a century, more Stars, and an eye, one so blue it quite literally sent a chill down his spine.

Suddenly, Arachnos opened his eyes and rushed clumsily got to his feet. This caught everyone's attention, Girl an Dogd alike. Arachnos merely moved to grab his cloak which hung by the door. Opening said door exposed the storm outside. He silently stepped through closing the door behind him.

Sighing from minor frustration, he assessed his surroundings. The area around his cabin was mostly unchanged, with the exception that gallons of water and high speed winds were invading. To his left was the smaller but no less sturdy structure that housed his other dogs, who were barking up their own personal storm. Behind that was a Barn where his farm animals resided.

He got going, not letting the state of the world deter him in the the least. As he finally reached the barely intact fence surrounding the main portion of the property, He saw something odd. When he'd first purchased the property, he'd had the urge, an inkling of pure intuition, that he should plant two trees just outside the fence, just about 25 ft. away. They were a apple & banana tree respectively. Looking at them from where he stood, he could see that they had both been partially uprooted, tilting away from each other. He got the impression that he needed to go that way. Like a sort of sweet devilish whisper in his ear.

He moved towards them quickly not wanting to be stuck in the mud. Grabbing a low hanging branch to ensure stability once he reached his destination, he looked down. It took him a few seconds to see clearly, but no more than a foot or so away was a pool, or rather, a 5 foot diameter hole in-between his trees being filled up by the rain. It wasn't yet full, meaning either it was a particularly deep hole, or despite the heavy rain the soil still absorbed most of the water, maybe both.

For awhile he just stood there, completely still, staring into the hole. His senses, the whisper again, told him that something of importance was buried at the bottom. Taking a deep breathe, preparing himself, he jumped in.

It was cold, so cold that Arachnos almost instantly went numb and as a result nearly lost consciousness, but this didn't stop him. He took in another large breathe, and held it. He then took himself under. He knew he wouldn't be able to see in the dirt filled body of water, so he kept his eyes closed. He relied only on the whisper. It was because of it that he perceived his objective, three items, all cylinders, all large enough to be held in a single hand, all metallic. He clung to the walls, using them to pull himself to the center most bottom of the hole. Reaching the bottom, he noticed that they hadn't been buried that deep. Using this, grabbed at the area he felt the presence of the objects and grabbed at the dirt until he finally found what he was looking for.

Grabbing the cylinders, he suddenly seemed to need oxygen, badly.

He moved quickly, and when he finally broke the surface, he inhaled, breathing so heavily that it came out as a wheeze. He took a moment to catch his breath. His body was cold while his lungs were hot and full of a searing pain.

Once he caught his breath enough, he looked at his prize. As he had sensed there were three cylinders. Nearly the same width and length, it was however clear that the individual outward designs were different. Arachnos lifted himself from the water fully, feeling the heaviness of his wet cloak.

Picking up one of the cylinders, he found a strange indent, like a sort of switch. He felt curious enough to try it, to see what it did. He held the cylinder parallel to his body and he pressed, and was awed. From the cylinder a Blue glowing beam, truly it was the color of a star and twice as beautiful, a vibrant sound resonating from it like a heartbeat. The Same buzzing-hum from his visions. The heavy rain became steam as they hit the beam, a sort of power to be weary of.

His Awe did not last however, as a lightning bolt hit the ground not far from where he sat. Realizing he had to get going, he took off his cloak and wrapped the cylinders in it. He then tucked them under the exposed roots of one of the trees, and headed off.

He moved as quickly as he could despite that now he was even more exposed. He concentrated on his task, protecting a small bag he had brought with him. He was cold, colder than he had ever been. Soaked truly down to the bone. Even with all this he focused on getting to his destination. It was especially difficult, as the ground had been turned into pure slurry, and so with every step he sank a bit. Even so, he carried on with a single minded determination. He thought of his training, of the whisper that guided him on. Soon, it was like he wasn't really there, like his body was merely moving on it's own, while his mind was somewhere else. He was so unaware that he didn't notice the grove of various fruit trees (that he had also planted) that he began to move through. Here he was no more than 1000 feet from his target.

As his body moved along, his mind focussed on the equipment he had brought with him as the whisperhad instructed. This consisted of a pair of leather gloves, the longest piece of rope in his possession, a hook, a pulley, and a large tarp. He didn't yet know what they would be used for, but he had his suspicions. He knew deep down that what he hap been waiting for had finally happened, though he didn't yet know what that was.

After about 40 Minutes of walking, he stopped. It took him a moment to realize this, and another to reorient himself to the state of reality. The storm continued on around him.

He didn't immediately notice it being that it was only partially visible. However, when he finally looked slightly downward he saw a structure stuck in the ground, sinking deep into the fresh mud.

It seemed to be metal, a broken window seemingly imbedded in the front with the jagged glass forming a foreboding sort of image resembling the maw of a hungry beast. Barely visible in the wet earth was a set of footprints leading away from the structure. Ignoring this however, Arachnos examined the strange craft as he perceived it, and attempted to make his way into the belly of the beast.

Attempted was the best description as he slipped on the mud in such a way that he cut himself on the glass, though he achieved his objective of entering the strange structure. Making himself comfortable and checking over the cut on his arm he saw that he was mostly ok and went on ignoring the small amount of pain.

Examining his new surroundings, he found that everything was made of a metallic alloy he had never encountered before in all his travels. He also found a number of seats with a series of belts attached. Arachnos considered that they might be for keeping prisoners in their seats, but came to the conclusion that this was unlikely as the belts latches were easily released and there was nothing to secure the hands.

Moving deeper he found a number of devices that he couldn't begin to fathom how to operate. So caught up in his exploration was he that he nearly missed something, or more apply, someone.

At first he thought that he'd bombed into an object on the floor, but in reality it was a man, or at least, Arachnos thought it was a man. The figure on the ground was tall, taller than any man Arachnos had ever encountered in person. The figure was dressed wholly in a black suit of armor, a hauntingly well crafted skull like mask upon his face, like a Black Knight of Legend.

Grouching to the ground, Arachnos knew already that he was dead, but this did not deter him. Seeing a cape, he decided removing it would make transporting the body easier. It took him a bit to undo the silver chain and a set of shoulder guards separate from the rest of the chest piece.

Taking those and moving them to his bag while removing the tarp, he then unfolded it best he could. When he moved to get the body onto the tarp, but found that the Knight weighed quite a bit. Eventually he managed it however. With this he refolded the tarp over the body.

He then tied the tarp closed the rope. The complicated series of knots used made it look like a cage with last piece leading to the top of where the head was within the tarp.

He then went to leave the craft. Having some trouble climbing out while dragging part of the rope out in his now gloved hands, he kicked out the rest of the glass as best he could.

With this he finally managed to crawl out, dragging the line of rope behind him.

He then pulled out the hook, along with the pulley. Taking a separate piece of rope he attached the hook, then tied the other end of the rope to the pulley. Running the original rope through the pulley, tying the end of that in a knot, he then grabbed the hook before moving out towards a tree.

Locating the sturdiest branch he could, a difficult task in current the weather, he tossed the hook, and missed. This was due to the high winds. This went on for awhile before he finally nailed his target. Pulling on the rope to make sure it wouldn't suddenly come undone, he began to pull.

This was all the more difficult because his prey was so heavy. It went on for so long, that the exhausted man lost his footing and slipped in the mud before he finally succeeded in raising the Black Knight from his strange tomb.

Once the tarp wrapped body hit the mud covered ground he cut the rope and tied the newly formed end around himself as he headed back to his cabin.

Exhausted and weighed down by his cargo, it would take awhile.


	2. A Seemingly Useless Surgery

By the time Arachnos got back he was essentially 99% water, and was so numb that he couldn't feel a thing.

Luckily for him Sara had prepared a bath so that he could be made warm and clean.

"I already warmed the water for your bath in anticipation. Everything you'll need is by the tub."

Not looking at all surprised Arachnos reached around his neck and removed a string with a number of keys attached, handing them over to Sara.

"In that case go right about your other tasks and prepare the surgical equipment, then move the body to the lab and begin removing its armor. And excellent work of precognitive thinking Daughter."

Sara wasn't looking at Arachnos and instead at the door in the back of the room that evidently was the entrance to his lab.

Arachnos then went to the tub and began to remove his clothing while Sara finally smiled briefly in response to the compliment before going about her work.

Removing his clothes showed that he was in decent shape, with a peppering of minor scars here and there, all except one. It was a deep, ugly line that ran from his left foot and up his leg along his thigh, across the waist, running diagonally across his chest up the throat and no longer being visible under his beard.

He completely disrobed and slowly lowered himself into the tub, the hot water relaxing his tense muscles. So tired was he that he didn't immediately notice when Sara brought over a small side table with a bowl of hot water and a razor. Once he noticed these he went about cutting his hair. It had clearly been a few years since he had taken a blade to it as he was struggling just a little. Once he finally got it to just above his ears he started shaving the sides of his head. Leaving just the surface he moved to his face and taking clumps of hair off his beard very quickly. He then slowed down, not really thinking as he allowed himself to relax. He did this for awhile until he cleared his face of all but the smaller peppering of stubble. This also revealed the last bit of his scar which reached up his cheek, stopping at the corner of his right eye at which point the skin was slightly more deformed and folded over each other in such a way that it made the young man seemed far more intimidating.

Outside of the scar however it was clear that he couldn't more than **_2 & a 1/2 Decades_** at the most.

Moving from the tub he grabbed the towel with which he dried himself moderately before moving to get dressed. Once this task was done he moved towards his lab.

Stopping in the doorway to observe, he found himself amused as his Child had managed to drag the body into the room, but apparently couldn't succeed in her task completely as the Knight was too heavy to lift on to the slab by herself. Deciding to relieve her of the burden he moved over to the slab and without a word began to help her move the black clad warrior onto the the completely level table. With the two of them this took considerably less work.

Once the labor was done they took a moment to catch their breath. Sara in particular took the opportunity to really observe the room for which she had never been granted access until now.

It wasn't quite as big as the front room, and felt even smaller with how the space was taken up. In the center was the aforementioned slab. This simple clean piece of metal was adjustable based on the hinge hidden underneath.

Closer to the door was a table filled with bottles of various sizes. Sara recognized some of them as compounds and poisons. Others were unknown. Directly across the room on the opposite was was a shelf that covered the whole wall. It was littered with clear glass jars that were filled with a yellow amber liquid, and floating within were the organs of various, things. On the next wall over on her right was another shelf filled with books, scrolls, and other written works.

Finally, there was a small table alongside the slab on which laid the surgical tools her Father had requested her to set out.

"Alright, now that this task is done, let us disrobe our dark Friend. Sara, Go about removing the boots and I shall take the gauntlets."

They swiftly went about their tasks.

It was only when Arachnos went about removing the right glove that he noticed the lack of one, along with a hand. Not only that but the edges of the leather of the glove appeared to be burnt and a strange series of colored strings were sticking out from where the hand should have been. Looking to the other hand he found that it actually was intact. Arachnos supposed that whatever had killed the Black Knight would likely also had something to do with his loss of appendage, assuming that it was a he.

Before he could ponder further Sara called his attention and went to see what she felt required his focus.

He found that she had successfully removed the boots and the attached greaves. What seemed to be pulling her attention however seemed to be the feet themselves which she was staring at with great intensity and unnerving intensity.

Turning his attention to her focus, he saw something that to him was chilling.

Instead of the normal fleshy limbs required by all humans to move about there were a set dark metallic skeletal feet which fascinated him as well as unnerved him in equal measure. The strange approximations of the walking appendage appeared to consist of a dark golden bronze colored set of toes while the body of the feet were made of a nearly black material.

So sucked up in the reality of this strange revelation, he nearly missed his child addressing him.

"Father? Father, what are they?"

Looking at his Daughter now he quickly schooled his features.

"Well, I'd say just look them, they appear to be feet." He of course said this with a completely straight face and deadpan tone.

Which led to him receiving a swift, if not hard, punch to the shoulder.

This merely resulted in a smirk from Arachnos.

"Joking, just joking. But in all seriousness they appear to be some sort of prosthetics. No doubt more advanced than anything we are familiar with. A good sign if you ask me. Get back to work. Since you've removed the boots I suggest that you go about figuring out how to remove the helmet. I'll join you once I remove the remaining gauntlet."

Without giving her another glance he moved back to his former task. As he was going towards it he took one last notice of the odd prosthetics, and especially of the left one, and the way it appeared to point unnaturally in the wrong direction. A foot of flesh and bone and blood was not meant to twist that way, and he had the feeling that neither was this metal approximation.

Once he was back at the Black Knights side he went about freeing the remaining gauntlet from its deceased perch. He was only minutely surprised to find that the thing was firmly latched to the sleeve. He also noted that there was damage to the leather. It wasn't immediately visible against the black surface, but the more he looked the clearer it was. Lining the glove, and the rest of the armor in absolutely no discernible pattern was a series of scorch marks, more than a few overlapping each other, and yet, the glove itself seemed only slightly damaged. It was a clear sign that whatever had killed him, it had been hot enough to leave marks.

Focusing on the gauntlet once again he went about wrapping his arm around his target and grabbed it with the opposite hand and thus began to pull. He could feel that it was beginning to give, but otherwise little progress was made.

Deciding that his current methods weren't going to be enough, he made the decision to just give it one big almighty tug, which he did.

As a result of his last effort he finally managed to remove the thing. Because of this however he nearly fell to the floor as the gauntlet turned out to be slightly heavier than he had originally thought. Luckily he righted himself.

Regaining his balance he took a short moment to examine the glove. It was clearly meant for someone of above average strength, as well as being layered in such a way that beyond the leather was clearly something else of a more durable sort. Then there was the leather itself, which while being softer than Arachnos had ever seen, was to him clearly from an animal he was not yet familiar with. This above everything else surprised him the most.

Putting aside the glove to where the boots and cape had been placed so that he could assist Sara. Once again he spared only a passing glance at the newly exposed appendage, and wasn't at all surprised that the remaining hand was like the feet, skeletal and metallic.

Moving up the body he found Sara, having removed the helmet as he instructed, examining her prize.

Coughing oh so quietly to catch her attention, he then made a gesture to indicate he too wished to investigate the piece.

Receiving it swiftly, Arachnos then wasted no time in having a look. He found that he was surprised by how light it was. He probably shouldn't have as Sara seemed to have had little trouble carrying it, yet still the ease with which he was holding it still amazed him. The helmet itself was smooth, smooth in a way metal simply wasn't. The way he could rub his fingers across the surface reminded him almost of polished glass, and yet, the piece had clearly been damaged just as the leather had, the material warped, as though by heat. Clearly another sign of whatever had killed him. It was also clear to him that it had been designed with the protection of the head and neck in mind.

"Was it difficult to remove?" He asked this without taking his eyes off the head piece.

"Only slightly. It was sealed air tight."

He grunted in response.

Finally examing the helmet's interior, he saw what appeared to be several brownish squares encircling where the crown of the head would have been.

Putting down the piece of black head wear he moved to the Knight's face which was still covered by a black skull like visage. He imagined it struck true, unbridled fear into almost all who saw it. The eyes which appeared almost black were in reality a dark tinted red color. There was a grill like pattern covering the mouth.

Looking only briefly to his Daughter he then turned back and reached for the face covering. While it was clearly meant to stay in place, it was also remarkably easy to remove.

Seeing all he needed to of the death's head he finally looked upon face of the Black Knight.

While it was clearly a human face, it was also a great contrast to that of his visage.

For one his face was a pale white, whiter in fact, than an egg that his head resembled with absolutely no hair. Not even eyebrows.

The flesh was scarred, and dry. And judging by his smell he hadn't had a real bath in a long time. And yet, he had clearly been in contact with water of some sort. While the skin was dry, it wasn't flaky the way skin that hadn't seen moisture for too long was.

Getting close, Arachnos used his thumb and forefinger to examine the right eye.

"Hm, blue. I wouldn't have guessed that. There is some damage to the outer layer of the eye. This damage seems older than what killed him, Your thoughts Daughter?"

Turing to look at her, he found she was watching him, studying his examination. Quickly directing her attention to the Pale Knight's face she took a closer look.

"The whiteness of the skin was likely a result of no contact with sunlight for a long time. The scarring and lack of hair was most likely the result burns, fire damage most likely. The problem with the eyes is likely due to that and some smoke damage."

As she stopped talking she stood stalk still, almost like a soldier. Arachnos didn't let that bother him for as long as he'd like, as he began to speak.

"Good. I'd say your assessment was more then likely accurate though I hesitate to calculate his age as the damage makes that difficult to tell. But roughly, I'd say somewhere between 35 & 55 is my best guess. Sara, go prepare the rest of my operating equipment along with items B3 to J12. And of course prepare a cleaning bowl for my hands. When you are done come to help me remove the remaining armor."

Giving no further acknowledgment he moved moved to the neck piece.

Turning him over Arachnos found the piece wrapped all the way around. He doubted it was completely sealed, but there was no obvious release mechanism. Not at all being a patient sort he went over to his forge and lit it. Grabbing a specific tool, a long steal rod with a flat sharp bit at the end, and placed it onto the coals.

Moving to one of the shelves he grabbed a single jar labeled Draconic-Acid. Said jar was filled with a mostly clear liquid with only a slight yellow tint. There was some barely discernible red bits left floating throughout.

Getting back to the forge quickly, he poured about hath the jar onto the already warm coals.

The instant the substance hit said coals the forge lit up like a volcano had exploded. Sara briefly raised her head, before moving back to her ordered tasks.

Giving the forge about a minute, Arachnos then grabbed the handle of the now hot tool. He neglected to completely remove it from the forge, letting it hover over the coals. Moving his other arm he upturned the jar and let its remaining contents pour over the blade.

There was a slight hiss of evaporation before the blade was covered in flame though it only lasted a moment.

Barely paying mind to the world around him he took the tool and moved to the neck. Slowing down slightly he used a bit more precision and allowed the blade to melt into the piece. He then proceed to saw into the brace, slowly cutting away at it. When he made it all the way through he didn't hesitate to grab the neck piece and pull it apart.

As he suspected, it now separated with ease. Quickly placing the two pieces with those they had gathered so far he then went and examined the neck. He found that there was clear spinal damage of the kind that would make it quite difficult to lift one's own head of their own power.

Feeling he had wasted a bit too much time, he could always examine the body afterward, and so he went about getting the rest of the armor off.

The chest plate came off with relative ease. The strange panel attached to the torso gave him a bit of trouble but once it was out of the way removing everything else went forward with great ease. Once Sara was back to aide him he found it went even faster as they removed the prosthetics. There just a slight bit more of trouble once they removed all of the leather and clothe robes as there seemed to be a strange apparatus covering up the Knight's genitals. While he had no real evidence, Arachnoes suspected this was there to somehow collect and dispose of his waste.

This took a little bit more time to remove and was likely was the most unpleasant work they would have to do that night, but it was done.

Arachnos didn't want young Sara to lay eyes on what lay underneath, this was despite her own claims that she had lay witness to such things in the past, but he insisted.

Once the aforementioned genitals were covered with a sheet the two went about finishing a single thorough investigation of the corpse.

Arachnos found it quite interesting how each of the limbs had been cut off. The legs had been cut off right above the knees, and it seemed in a single impressive stroke. The arms however were clearly cut separately, if not at completely different times. Then there was the fact that the burns seem to Cover every bit of exposed skin there was, which of course was all of it.

The only other notable thing to him was that the Knight was remarkably fit for someone in his condition, his muscles well defined though not grossly huge.

Seeing all that needed to be seen Arachnos nodded to Sara who responded in kind. She had already changed into her surgical robes, so he went about following suit before dipping his hands into a bat of acid that would kill any unfortunate microbes that might have been there. He then covered his head and face so as he had all avenues covered.

Finally, he went to his tools, standing at the bodies right. Sara similarly garbed stood on bodies other side along with a few glass jars and a few more tools to be used.

He began with a **Y** shaped incision to the chest which took no time at all.

A few minor notes where made when it came to the internal chest cavity, such as a replacement sternum along with pretty much all of the front ribs. They had to take time to figure out how to remove that properly so as to put it back into place later. There was also what appeared to be a set of devices meant to assist the organs, most prominently attached to the right lung.

These were quickly removed along with most of the organs which included the stomach, thyroid, Thymus, any remaining intestines, the pancreas, and the kidneys. These were all wrapped in cloth and tied in such a way that they were dangling over the forge. After this Sara opened a few specific jars and held them towards her Father. Plucking from the putrid liquids a replacement for each organ, except the pancreas, that was perfectly preserved and certainly in far better condition than the originals.

Taking the time to meticulously place and secure each individual organ felt like an eternity, but was certainly a necessary task.

When this was finally done Arachnos signaled Sara to retrieve a device that she placed on his head. With a closer look this was clearly some sort of binocular vision device as he used it to look up into the dead man's throat.

Moving about in this examination with a sort of swift precision, he soon stood up and ordered for something else that his child quickly went off to retrieve.

With that he very carefully shifted the head piece so that it was no longer covering his eyes. He then picked up another tool, this time a set of prongs with the end being a ring with two flat bits connecting each hath.

Sara soon returned with another jar, this one appearing to be made of metal.

Removing the top of said jar revealed that sticking out the top was a strange blue cylinder speckled with darker blue throughout.

Slowly and precisely Arachnos removed the cylinder from its container. He then briefly dipped it in the acid he had bathed his hands in earlier. Taking the cylinder out of its sudden acid bath no more than 12 seconds later he moved to place it in the open chest cavity behind all the new organs. The cylinder was then pushed with force into the esophagus.

Quickly setting down the prongs he moved to finally seal the passage between the esophagus and the stomach.

Placing the false ribs back into place, he then sewed the chest back up. Wasting no time at all he signaled Sara once more, this time gesturing to the head. Understanding, the young girl went as instructed and lifted the head til the chin was facing the chest. Arachnos then grabbed another device and attached it to the jaw and moved a small crank in such a way that it forced the mouth open. Locking it in place, he then retrieved a clean blade.

Here he began by cutting into the base of the tongue where he started sawing away at the organ, which, was slightly tougher then the skin of the chest.

When this was done he the tongue with the other original organs. Arachnos himself then grabbed the jar containing a new tongue. Carefully removing the fresh organ, he placed it in the mouth and kept it in place using pins before moving to sew it into the mouth.

Once done the pins and apparatus were removed, and thus Sara was free to place the head back down.

Then very gently they turned the body onto its side. Picking up one more clean blade Arachnos cut into the skin of the throat until he hit bone. Putting the blade back down he then grabbed the prongs once more and from the nearby still open metal container he plucked a small piece the same as the cylinder, and then carefully deposited it in skin of the neck. He then moved quickly to seal it shut with thread.

With this they placed the body softly back on the slab.

After removing their masks Sara went back to the other room, seeming to know their next move. Arachnos on the other hand grabbed a small bag along with another jar, this one large and seeming to be filled with plain, clear liquid.

When Sara finally returned it was with the tub, now emptied of the dirty bath water. Placing it on the floor next to the slab, she then stepped back. Arachnos moved forward then and poured the liquid into the tub, though only about hath way. He the deposited the contents of the bag into the water, a odd almost humming set of crystals in a multitude of colors. Putting the now empty containers down, he moved and placed his arms under the body and with some effort lifted the Knight and lowering him into the tub.

Kneeling beside it, he then placed his hands onto the head and chest respectively. He then nodded at Sara one more time. She in response picked up no blade in particular and moved to the sack of organs hanging over the forge. She took the blade to the rope, yet did not cut, waiting for some yet unseen sign.

Then, Arachnos bowed his head and closed his eyes, and began to speak in tongues.

Whatever language it was, it seemed to shift, some sentences sounding soft, soothing, almost Holy. Others were harsh, angry, guttural, and yet never were they out of sync or out of place.

Soon, the air was filled with a strange serene numbness, and with it things started to take a strange turn. Things you see, started to float.

It began with the hair on their heads. Following closely were the smaller items in the room such as the surgical tools. Finally, the crystals started to float completely vertical on the surface while the liquid itself seemed to be vibrating from the center outwards.

This is when Sara cut the rope.

As a result the flames climbed and expanded outwards turning a vibrant sapphire blue, and simultaneously Arachnos's chants were at their loudest, a graceful rage in his voice as it reached the height of his pitch, the room shook, the storm outside seemed to intensify in magnitude, nothing was completely still.

Then, he stopped.

As if the world was linked to his very voice, everything stilled, and dropped. It was though everything that had occurred had been but a flight of fancy.

Arachnos now was panting. Heavy wheezing breaths exiting his throat. Now leaning on his arms as he looked to the sealing, his eye closed in exhaustion.

Sara quickly moved to him, seeming to ask if he was okay, though he immediately dismissed her concern.

Suddenly, like the swift unexpected stab of betrayal, the surface of the crystal water was broken with a explosion. Said explosion was the result of the "former" corpse sitting up with a single great heave, and took a mighty gasping breath!

Sara seemed to loose her balance in surprise falling back with a great look of shock and awe upon her face. Arachnos meanwhile hadn't seemed to moved at all, though that was slightly deceiving as his lips moved up into a face splitting grin so wide, that the Devil himself would be jealous.

He then said a single word that expressed all his emotions, most especially joy, excitement, and oddly exasperation.

"Finally."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that took forever. For me I mean.
> 
> You see, the prologue and this first here chapter were originally one document. But I've never made a first chapter that long before, and I hadn't planned to start now. Not to mention I've been working on this for, well probably a little over a year. Unfortunately the urge to write is hard to come by. Don't get me wrong, I love writing, but it takes so much effort and concentration. And frankly concentrations never been one of my strong suits. Hopefully I'll be able to keep up a steady pace while writing this, but don't expect anything consistent.
> 
> In writing this and the prologue I've made quite a few changes, nothing major but still.
> 
> The only other thing of note I have to say is that the name "Arachnos" was something I came up with in early middle school while reading a novelization of the original STAR WARS trilogy. It's essentially my personal Sith name. Hope you all like it.
> 
> Finally, thank you all those who have taken an interest in this story, much appreciated and if you feel so inclined, please leave a comment or review. I would really love to hear your thoughts.


	3. Fathers

We find the Lady Sara and her Father, the mysterious Arachnos, siting before the now "Breathing" Black Knight, Arachnos with the same grin that had been on his face since the Knight's first new breath. Sara meanwhile was expressing a sort of mystified yet distressed stoicism, more expressive than before but only compared to herself about about 2 hours ago.

"His body is adjusting. Not only was he dead not long ago, but now he is in better shape than he was before his death. He is in a sort of, healing trance." Said the still grinning mad-alchemist.

Finally turning to her Father, Sara addressed what she saw as the elephant in the room.

"Father, are we certain the "prophesied" happening predicted so long ago, is this?"

Turning to his Child with a raised eyebrow, he gave her something of a amused look.

"And what Daughter, would you have seen befall us?"

Her troubled expressed turned to the slightest bit of frustration before going back to stoic.

"To be perfectly honest, I had never given it much thought outside the fact that something was going to happen someday."

"And so something has. The Knight's arrival is the great event we've been waiting for."

He turned his back to her, before asking another, far more serious question. "But you're not merely questioning the vision of the _**First Master**_ , are you Daughter?"

Despite him still not facing her, she looked down in something akin to embarrassment, or shame.

"Its just, he is, different. He's, powerful. More Powerful than anyone we've ever encountered. And truthfully, That scares me, more than anything I've ever experienced."

With this Arachnos stopped what he was doing. He then sighed once, before turning and taking his Daughter into his arms. "You have nothing to worry about my dear. My Little mischievous Fairy Quenn, you are in no danger. I sense that the Knight is no threat to us. And even if he were, I would quickly rip out his Throat with my teeth and pluck his heart out through his naval before letting any harm come to you. You know this." He'd spoken quite softly, and Sara, taking comfort in this man she called Father, relaxed and let all the tension leave her body as she snuggled into the fabric of the shirt.

"Pa-pa, can you please sing to me, like when I was young."

"Alright, my Titania. I think I know the perfect song." He coughed briefly to clear his throat, sighed again, and then . . .

_"I've just come down from the isle of Skye_

_I'm no very big an' I'm awfully shy_

_The lassies say as I go by_

_Donald where's your trousers_

_Let the wind blow high, let the wind blow low_

_Through the streets in my kilt I'll go_

_All the lassies say hello_

_Donald, where's your trousers?_

_Now I went to a fancy ball_

_And it was slippery in the hall_

_And I was feared that I might fall_

_For I hadnae on me trousers_

_Let the wind blow high, let the wind blow low_

_Through the streets in m . . . ."_

As he sang his sweet song, though not wholly on key mind you, we slowly drift. We now leave this physical realm of ours and delve into one of a more, spiritual nature. We slip along the "Whisper's" current, and into the mind of the "Black Knight". Lets see things as he does for a bit.

The mind of another is often far more abstract than can be described. This mind more so than others, but I shall give it a try.

This mind is a heavy, dark place, where little light can pierce the veil. It is like being under water, where the pressure is great, and quite unbearable for most. And yet, there is peace, of a sort. There are tiny strings of color, vibrating in different frequencies. Some beautiful, some quite horrible to behold. Some were Animals of many worlds, some were machines of intelligent construction. And some were so unknown to mortal sapient ears, that they could not be described by one such as my self. And through it all, pain was felt. The trail of which lead to he who resided in this consciousness

The one of the Mind, the one of many Tittles, was alone currently, and somewhat confused.

"Hello!? Hello, is anyone here? Master Yoda, Qui-gon!? Obi-Wan!? **Luke!?** "

This yell seemed to be the loudest, echoing throughout the metaphysical space, figuratively, and literally.

"This is strange. I can still feel all their presences, and yet, they are away from me somehow. Separated as though by a wall."

It seems the poor lad was completely unaware that he was speaking out loud, though that is because when in the mind, thinking is talking.

"What is this feeling? Its, unnatural. No! If anything, this is the most natural I've ever felt. Its so strange, and all of a sudden I feel, almost . . . ."

Suddenly, without any true warning, a new presence made itself known. With it the entire space shifted, and more incomprehensible unknowns of indescribable nature appeared. Some visual, some audible, though a lesser being such as myself can barely say so.

_**"Alive. That is what you were about to say, Anakin."** _

"Yes, who are you? Where are we? Why Do I feel alive?"

The former Jedi/Sith seemed slightly agitated at the moment.

_**"This is your mind. And you "Feel" alive because you are. Really Vader, Focus! I won't hold your had through this. I haven't before, I won't start now."** _

"What? I don't understand."

It was only really here that Vader noticed the shifting, unstable form of the being standing before him. The only feature to be seen clearly was a set of familiar blue eyes, shadowed slightly under what, might, have been a hood.

_**"This space, called the mind by those who don't know any better, is that which houses the Soul and Consciousness, as you and others like you may comprehend it. Anakin, please pay attention."** _

Anakin was looking about, enjoying the beautiful, yet disgusting constructs reshaping themselves overhead. The call of his "1st" name pulled him back.

"I am Paying Attention _**Obi-Wan!"**_

There was an odd silence, before things began to move again in the space. Anakin, for his part, seemed embarrassed as he rubbed the back of his head."

"Sorry, force of habit."

_**"Its fine. You can hardly stop your mortal impulses. Even while here, they are a part of you."** _

"Right. Listen, you never answered my question about your identity."

_**"You already know who I am Vader. You've known me all your life, and you've known my identity since I arrived here."** _

While he certainly found it unbelievable, he could feel the truth of him words. And yet, he couldn't comprehend the answer until it was clarified for him that he did. It was like one of his earliest days learning in the temple. The answer also made him sour.

"You are the Force. And, you are my Father."

He answered with great hesitation.

_**"Very good, Son. I would expect nothing less from my progeny."** _

From the aether sprung a sort of shadow that clung to Vader, and with it his appearance changed. He seemed to get taller, his eyes became the color of fire, while an unsettlingly familiar breathing seemed to echo around them. Finally as his voice was once again heard, it was, layered. His normal human voice could be heard, but with it came a deep, dark, timbering voice. The one that at the moment appeared to be dominant.

"You don't get to call me that. You weren't there. Why weren't yo _u there?! She could have lived if you'd been **There! They both could've! They All Could've Lived!"**_

Here, as his, rant, seemed to have come to a end, he fell to his hands and knees. Then, from the approximation of his physical form, came the echoing sound of water droplets hitting the metaphysical floor.

_**"Your anger, and your tears, are not without cause. And to it I will only say that I was always with you, though not quite in the way you would've liked. And Anakin, like so many, you failed to always hear me. But, you heard me more clearly than any living wielder of my power in quite some time, Son."** _

The final word got a flinch out of Anakin.

It was now, after his odd tantrum, that Anakin heard his Father's voice more clearly. Like his a moment ago, it was layered. But instead of just 2, there were many. In fact, it sounded like every person who had ever held authority over him were all speaking simultaneously. From Gardulla there was the faint whisper of Huttese. From Watto there was the weak attempt to sound smarter than he appeared. His Mother's loving tones were fairly clear, though there was also a slight air of disapproval there for some reason. Almost the entirety of the old Jedi council was there, indistinguishable together in an amorphous blob of sound, the only outliers being Master Yoda, and Master Windu. Yoda sounded gentle, and yet his voice was not one to be ignored. This was because he earned the respect of all who knew him, even his enemies. There was also a sense of, command, that compelled him to Listen. Mace held his usual unsettling calm that carried with it condescension that, Anakin with more experience, including that of death, could detect wasn't always meant that way. Qui-gon was somehow the kindest, even more so than his Mother. Obi-Wan was speaking with his distinctive accent and trade-mark sarcasm. Finally, the most unsettling of voices. A set of two, layered in of themselves, separate from the rest. One from the kindly, old, generous, man, who had always treated him like a son, and the softly malicious dead croak that was his true voice, Sidious. Strangely, he also heard a bit of Padmé's voice. He found this odd as he had never considered her a source of authority in his life.

"Why did I just explode like that? I should have more control. I never even exploded lake that back as a hormonal teenager. And why is your voice like that? What do You mean I'm alive? I should be dead."

His irritation combined with a remarkable patience displayed that he was quite, uncomfortable, yet trying quite hard to hide it.

_**"To answer your first two questions, lack of control for both. Your outburst is due to the fact that this is your mind, and you can't hide from anything here. You might have been able to mask them, and to a minor extent channel your emotions later in your life. But you never fully controlled them, Commanded them. This lack of control is also why you are hearing so many different voices in mine, you are absorbing all this new power that your death, and now resurrection have essentially unlocked. Don't worry, I'm going to teach you the basics of control. And before you ask, the Jedi & Sith methods are for mortals. And despite your Mother, your are no mere mortal my Son."** _

_**"**_ Oh, ok, I guess. So, how do I do it?"

_**"First close your ey . . . . Well, technically you don't have eyes here, but close them anyway. Good. Now, don't focus on anything but my voice. As my truest disciple once said, "Feel, don't think". Feel each voice and concentrate on whats really there. Keep in mind that as you are now you won't be able to hear my true voice, don't worry about it. Just try to clear away all the useless bits to get close to the truth. Now tell me, can you hear it?"** _

It seemed that he could. Most of the voices had slipped away, like sand through his fingers. But, like sand had a habit to, a few grains had been left behind. The basis of his Father's voice seemed to be Qui-gon, and yet not. It was confusing, and yet again, not. There was the hint of an off again accent, something of Obi-Wan to a small extent. Then there was Yoda's wisdom, and unfortunately, Sidious's croak. He got the sense however that this particular bit remained only to indicate just how different his Father was from other beings, anywhere, and the best way to express this was to essentially unsettle him. And yet despite all the familiarity', he could still hear a voice that was distinct and belonged to the Force itself, though he was at a loss to describe it.

Getting the desired results, he opened his metaphysical eyes. Interestingly he could now make some of the progenitor's features. For instance, he was only slightly above average in height when it came to human males, while his complexion was remarkably pale, which caused his eyes to stand out more.

"It seems to have worked. I also seem to be able to see you more clearly."

_**"Good. Well done Son. Now on to that other question, why you now live. You see, the shuttle You and Luke were housed in was caught in a sort, storm. This storm was charged with my power, and as a result you were both transported across the universe to a, as far as you are concerned, uncharted primitive planet. When you crashed I quickly contacted a wielder of my power who located the shuttle and your corpse. While I knew it as a possibility, I genuinely didn't expect your resurrection as the most likely outcome."** _

"And thats something the can just be, done?"

_**"In a sense, yes. But its hardly that simple. You see, first one must ask."** _

"I'm sorry, what?"

Here he sounded genuinely angry.

_**"Well to be blunt, no ever really asks for it to be done. You would think that sapients would ask for their companions to be brought back more often, but its surprisingly rare. And before you ask, no I won't resurrect Padmé. The reason is that its a bit late for that, seeing as her body is long decayed by now and Naboo isn't anywhere near Planetos. Also, and this is important, I generally don't bring back an individual unless there is some purpose to be served. Loss of life is tragic and disgusting, but its a bit of a waste to bring some-being back only for them to waste it. So long as they don't waste the gift of a second life and the individual serves some great purpose, only then can it be done."** _

"And what great purpose will I serve. I got the impression that I brought balance as I died. Or did I somehow fail to do that?"

He still sounded Angry, but it seemed to have reduced slightly.

_**"No, you did in fact bring balance. As to your great purpose, I couldn't say. But I look forward to finding out."** _

"What? How can you not know!?"

_**"Make no mistake my Son. I know all the possibilities. What I lack is the certainty of the outcome. This is because the future is in a constant state of flux, no outcome guaranteed. It keeps things from becoming tedious for me."** _

Here the Son looked to the floor in shame.

"Then I didn't have to slaughter the temple. I didn't have to kill those younglings!"

_**"Vader, Focus!"** _

This caught his attention as as it was the only time the progenitor had raised his voice thus far.

_**"Son, it is true that you didn't need to go down the path you did. But the fact was that your chooses were quite limited. By me, the Jedi, and sidious.**_ " The way he said the emperor's true name was as though he was trying to swallow something quite _disgusting_. " _ **While there were many small variations, the fact was you really only had two paths available to you. One of which wasn't even your choose. And I must confess that a lot of the blame could be placed on me personally. I felt that essentially giving the Jedi a ultimatum was my best option. But by that point they could barely hear me, let alone understand what I was trying to tell them."**_

"What, what was the ultimatum? What were my divergent paths?"

_**"Essentially, evolve, or be destroyed. They were to learn and grow. To step away from the stagnant methods they had implemented for millennia and become better Jedi. They failed, and as a result were brought low."** _

"And their destruction would have occurred wether I turned or not?"

_**"Very good Anakin. Yes, regardless of your choose sidious would have attacked. The different is how the Jedi would have been able to respond. As they were, they suspected essentially nothing and Order 66 caught them completely by surprise. Had they changed in time they could has responded accordingly and many more of them would have lived. Ah, I sense your curiosity about how exactly you brought balance. You see, had the Jedi learned and lived, you would have been in a position to take command and lead them to a new future. In the case of what actually happened, you eliminated most of the Jedi yourself. So you essentially wiped the slate clean for whoever follows to do things over and hopefully get it right next time. Honestly Vader, the only thing you were really obligated to do as the Chosen One was kill sidious. He was a blight on me and the Galaxy as a whole. He needed to die, and I thank you for killing him."** _

Up to this point Vader seemed to be following everything his progenitor said.

"I didn't do it for you, and why do you keep switching between what you call me?"

_**"Ah, I wondering when you were gonna notice that. Simply put, because both are your names. Both are who you are. Your personal balance, your light, your darkness. One is the name your Mother gave you at birth on my behalf, while the other, your Sith name, was a choose that I took from the moment I knew you being a Sith was a possibility. You are Anakin, but you are also Vader, and you always will be."** _

Anakin and or Vader was once again looking at the ground, his expression grim.

"Alright, I have one more question. Why was my mother a slave? Why was I born a slave?" The shadow once again clung to him, casting him more as Vader at the moment than Anakin. While he was more in control this time, he was also clearly more angry. Unfortunately, the Force doesn't care wether your angry or not.

_**"Well done Son, your finally focusing. True control is finally within your reach."** _

This resulted in Vader screaming, and thus the entire space began to vibrate violently.

Suddenly Vader was in front of his "Father" and his metaphysical fist was clenched, though the Force seemed to be only mildly uncomfortable.

"You keep calling me Son! But you can't do that! _You don't get to be a Father, you don't get to make claim on **me! I am only my Mother's Son. AAaaahhhh!"**_

Vader then pushed the progenitor away telekinetically before striking out with Force Lighting. For the first time since the encounter had begun the Force made to move. The Father raised his single left arm and essentially absorbed the Lighting.

For a moment it was simply quiet.

Then the Force outstretched the already raised arm, just the pointer finger out, and from the tip cam a thick glowing silver bolt of Lighting, that when it hit Vader sent him fly and landing onto his back for what seemed like miles across the space. But it didn't matter, the Force was on him in an instant.

Wasting no time by pinning the Son to the ground with his foot, the Force quickly made his opinion known.

_**"Listen Boy! Do not presume to reprimand me! Do not tell me what I can't and can do! I Am The Force! I hold this universe, period! I run things as I see fit! I didn't ask for for your opinion! And above all else, I am your Father. That may mean different things to us both, and you may hate me if my wish. But don't presume to understand the feelings of one such as I."** _

The Force removed his foot and moved back a bit.

Anakin, now free, moved back even more. He remained on his back.

_**"I will answer your question however. I chose, Smhi because she was kind, and had managed to remain so despite her circumstances. I chose her because I knew that my Progeny would grow strong under such conditions. But I also knew that it would instill in you a sense of Humility. That is why you were born a slave."** _

With this Anakin rose to his feet and moved away, clearly wanting nothing more to do with his "Father", and essentially made this known.

"Well, this is nice. I guess I'll be leaving now. Really it was great. We should do it again in another 46 Years."

At this point he was walking away with his back to the Force.

_**"Wait!"** _

For some reason he listened.

_**"You were born a slave, and in many ways you rose above that. But there was a long lasting consequence of this. One I did not foresee, and is probably my only true regret in all of my Existence. And that is that despite only being a slave for 9 years, you never really stopped being a slave. You were a slave to the Jedi, to the Empire, to sidious. And even, a slave to me. You made so few chooses for yourself in your life."**_ Here the Force stepped forward, and from behind hugged his Son. _**"And for that I am truly sorry. My So . . . NO! You, deserve better. But know this, Anakin, Vader, whatever name You choose, is your choose. Whatever you choose from this moment forward is your choose. In death you have been set free, thus in this second life go forward and do as you please. This world is yours to do with as you choose. And Son, know that while as I am I'm incapable of feeling things as you do, of experiencing sympathy, empathy, or even Love, know that as I am I do care for you as much as I am capable. And, in my own way, I am proud of you, my little Skywalker."**_

Here he finally let go and Anakin began to once again walk away. However, he stopped again soon after. For what felt like an eternity there was total silence. Then, he broke it.

"Sigh! You know, as far as Father's go, you're not the worst I could've gotten."

He then continued to walk off into a uncertain future, leaving the Force to ponder his strange progeny.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are with chapter 3.
> 
> I've been wanting to write this for awhile. Long before even coming up with the concept for this Fic. Specifically I just wanted to dive into the nature of Anakin/Vader as the chosen one. While it was difficult, this was actually pretty fun to write.
> 
> Another thing I wanted to touch on is Anakin being the Son of the Force itself. I'm amazed this isn't used more in Fanfiction.
> 
> Please give me your thoughts on these topics and the chapter as a whole. I really want to know.


	4. Of Feelings and Observations

The world was a swirling mass of color and sound. No solid structure could be seen, only a number of amorphous blobs taking on a number of vague shapes. It had been like this since Anakin had left the Force's manifested presence.

In Vader's apparent misplaced state he found himself lacking any form of coherent senses, Only the Force. Most likely this was because of the minimal _"training"_ he had just received when it comes to interacting with this level of power.

He seemed to be drifting further and further from anything recognizable. He suspected his _"father"_ would put it in the terms, "Mortal Perception". As he currently was feeling himself loose all sense of identity. If Obi-Wan were there, in any form, he would probably point out that Anakin hadn't come up with a plan to deal with the situation.

But what was he supposed to do? He had been dead. And now, He wasn't. He'd been given a second chance of sorts, but what was he supposed to do with it?

Didn't the Force mention something about the world he was on on? About it being, Primitive?

The forest moon of Endor then? And he mentioned that one of the inhabitants had brought him back from the Netherworld of the Force.

That didn't sound right. Assuming that strength in the Force was not required, it still doesn't match with all known facts about the inhabitants of the Forest Moon. Ewoks he believed they were called. Regardless, it does not match up well to what he knew.

Trying to come to a decision, or at least to sort out his thoughts, seemed to make things appear more clearly, though in what way he couldn't say. But, as things went about making less and less sense to his mind while also becoming clearer, things began to fall apart again.

Once again he couldn't perceive anything clearly.

It took him a second to realize that he was looking at the inside of his eyelids.

And beyond them the light of, something.

As He gathered his newly regained _"mortal"_ senses he realized that he was hyperventilating.

He took a moment to gather himself. Vader quickly decided that Jedi methods would be best under the circumstances, though he was a little out of practice. He added a modicum of the control he'd only really learned as a Sith to move forward. He is minutely surprised by how well the 2 things work together.

At this point though he really shouldn't be.

With his calm returned to him Anakin finally opened his mortal eyes.

What he saw wasn't the most surprising, especially not in his near five decades of existence and experience. Never the less what he saw did not wholly fit his expectations.

The room in which he found himself was not packed full, nor was it unoccupied. It seemed to contain ancient tomes and, not flimsi, but paper. Curious. The Force had said that the world he was on was primitive, and while the sight of such outdated materials fit with the descriptor, the construction of the room which contained him was, while not advanced, seemed a bit beyond the creatures known as Ewoks. The walls around him appeared to be constructed of mostly stone. Vader had heard of how the inhabitants of the Endor Moon were not entirely unimpressive, but stone seemed far beyond them. The lack of bones, in the construction at least, led him to believe that something was definitely not as it should be.

This feeling had been with him for some time. Only now however was it clearly, continuously, perceivable to the Knight-Lord's mind.

Exhaling to not loose his focus, he suddenly went completely stiff.

In his Force addled mind distracted by other things he hadn't noticed. He was breathing, under his own power. There was still a minor noticeable wheeze, but otherwise all that remained of his need for a respirator was a dull ache and pressure in his chest.

And this was not all as he could now see in color again. Not the horrid red tint of his visor, or even the depressingly plain clean stark white of his meditation chamber. True his current location hardly offered the most inspiring shades, but he had witnessed duller.

Finally his scars no longer taunted him with their constant irritation. Again they could still be felt, but it was no longer agonizing to the point that he wanted nothing more but to murder all in his path.

It was a, strange sensation.

With these realizations also came the sensation that he was, bare.

Looking down to observe himself showed that he was more or less exposed. All that remained to cover his dignity was a white sheet of sorts. Also, his limbs were missing.

That sensation had entered his mind, their absence, but to see it was, unnerving. In the deepest recesses of his mind he knew he would be fine, he had the Force after all. But even so there was an irrational sense of helplessness.

Anakin suspected that if Luke was present he would've said something like _'You could never be Helpless Father'_ with the thought resulting in a brief, soft, solum chuckle.

Brief because the Lord of the Sith had only in this moment noticed the lack of his only male offspring. It shouldn't have been possible for his only meaningful living familial connection to slip his mind so easily.

First his own body and now this. He had not lacked in focus like this since the Clone Wars.

Suddenly Vader's mind filled with imaginings of his Son in pain, alone. Threatened by some unknown. Rage and worry alike began to build in his gut. Thoughts of what suffering he would inflict on those who would harm his BOY brought back a kind of anger he had not experienced since, Mustafar.

With thoughts of his greatest failure an odd cool calming sensation fell over him in a way thoughts of the hellish ball of melting rock usually did not.

Taking another calming breath, Anakin focussed his mind on reaching the Force, and his Son.

Relief like a water shower washed over him as his Son's Force presence came into his mind-scape.

Unfortunately Vader couldn't seem to reach out to him. A unusual block was seeing to that. It was different from that which had separated him and Obi-Wan, or even him and Ahsoka.

Based on what he could sense he believed that Luke was somehow responsible for the block though not intentionally.

It was like before their Bespin duel. Like Luke was back to not knowing their relation, which also didn't quite seem right.

Realizing that he was getting nowhere and that dealing with each problem one at a time was really his best option, the newly redeemed Knight focussed instead on himself and his current location.

Directing his focus to the structure that currently contained him, he realized he was not at all alone.

In the next room of the small structure he sensed Four Life Forms. Two seemed to be quadrupeds. Likely fauna of some sort. The other 2 however, intrigued him. He sensed the Force, in both of them. Nearly as strong as the other, yet one clearly more focussed than the other. The first thought to pass through Anakin's mind was surviving Jedi, but immediately dismissed it as his instincts indicated. They seemed, wild, raw. Like a sandstorm in the immediate distance. Likely untrained. At least, as a Jedi or Sith.

Wishing to leave his current location, Vader once again observed his surroundings until his eyes made contact with his disembodied legs. Then with the power of the Force to restore the metal limbs to their proper place. The limbs themselves were damaged in obvious and not so obvious ways. While somewhat uncomfortable because of this the damage hardly impeded his ability to walk, thanks to the Force.

Getting to his feet with all the confidence of someone with his experience, Anakin found that he could move about as well as could be expected under the circumstances.

Before proceeding into the other room Vader made sure to use the Force to tie the sheet around his waist.

Now, with his dignity as intact as possible, the Lord of the Sith proceeded into the next room.

As he entered through the wooden passage into the new chamber Anakin made note of how his presence effected those already within. The 2 quadrupeds, appearing to be some variety of canine-dog, were on-guard but otherwise unaffected by his presence. As for the two Force sensitives. The younger was a small narrow girl no older than Ahsoka had been when they had first met. She was unnerved somewhat by his presence, perhaps even a little afraid, though there were no outward signs of this. The most interesting however was by far the older, human looking male.

There was a scar on his face that reminded Vader of the Force lightning his last _master_ had been so fond of. Jagged and ugly, it was clearly painful to have been received. Looking at this and the rest of the young mans outward appearance Anakin could discern a clear sense of confidence. Not the misplaced confidence of his youth as a Jedi or the foolish, righteous arrogance his Son had once presented him with on Bespin, but the confidence of someone who knew they had nothing to fear.

While he was not wrong to think this, Vader found the confidence almost insulting in its stability.

Moving forward in an attempt to greet his presumed rescuers he found himself looking out onto a suddenly shaking room. Opening his mouth to speak, all the Skywalker could hear was an inhuman high-pitched screech. Like the scratching of claws against a rocky surface. As he closed his mouth the Knight of the Jedi realized it was his unused voice that had filled the room. The realization did not last particularly long as it came to Anakin's attention that suddenly everything was taller or bigger for some reason. And again, everything was shaking for some reason.

As his vision began to fade, it occurred to Vader that he was quite hungry all of a sudden.

_**EARLIER** _

Arachnos was, unhappy wasn't the right word. As he allowed the brief distraction of trying to find the right word take his mind, he found it once again drawn elsewhere as he sensed the Black Knight once again enter the waking world. The odd necromancer that he was found a brief moment of joy in this success. Deciding that letting the Knight adjust at his own pace was best, Arachnos finally found the word he had been seeking. Disconcerted. He was feeling disconcerted.

The arrival of the Black Knight had left Arachnos strangely satisfied. Then less than 2 days since the completion of the surgery a letter from the Order had arrived. It was not a long read, but its contents had left little doubt in his mind that change was on the horizon. One of his Academics, Tobias, had apparently over a year ago left the main temple. Not only was Arachnos just hearing about this, but apparently Tobias was now dead. 2 of his Hunters had gone after the Academic less than a month after Tobias had left , and had taken nearly 10 months just to find his body. They had followed his trail to an inn on the Kingsroad. They had then spent the other 8 and hath months just to track down Tobias's corpse. While one of the Hunters, Jay, was going about getting the body back to the temple, the other, Mac, was heading to Arachnos's home at this very moment to show him what Tobias _"had died for"_ which spoke of trouble as far as Arachnos was concerned.

Based on the speed of the Temple's Ravens the Letter had been sent only about a day ago. Based on this and the location mentioned in the letter Mac was likely to arrive between 2 and 3 weeks.

While Arachnos couldn't say he was out and out afraid, the situation left little doubt that he and his would have to make moves soon. Something that he noted had not been done by any of his predecessors since the time of Aegon the Conqueror.

Most Disconcerting.

Before he could give these things any further contemplation the door to his lab crashed open with the thunderous sound of an angry god. Stepping into the main room of the home instead was the ironically pale visage of the Black Knight. Standing tall with his metal legs and no arms and covered only by the white sheet they had left him with, it be a comical sight, if the tension weren't so high.

The source of this tension was Sara, who despite his reassurances stood with caution and fear, hidden of course, in the face of their guest.

Arachnos meanwhile seeing no reason to fear sat in anticipation. Observing the Knight he saw the eye of one with experience, observing them just as intently.

After a moment the Knight made to move forward, and instead swayed as though drunk. At the same time he opened his mouth, yet only a grating dry whisper was heard. To Arachnos it was like the low growl of an unknown beast.

From here chaos rose as the Knight's metal knees made contact with the floor. The Albino swayed a bit more like some unpredictable wave in an unholy storm. These things were accompanied by quite a bit of the inanimate objects around the room rumbling before the Knight's unseen hands.

His face then made contact with the floor that sent a shudder through all those present.

The Lord of the household observed with some pride as his daughter ran to the albino strangers aide despite all aforementioned fear.

Looking briefly to his Dogs, and then again to his daughter, and finally to his unconscious guest, he suddenly felt a chill crawl up his spine.

Disconcerting.

_**LATER** _

Feeling only pain as he came to once again, Anakin could only recall hunger along with brief flashes of his last brush with consciousness.

Taking far less time to orient himself than last time, Vader quickly realized that he was back on the slab. Looking about, he observed that little had changed except that it was darker though he could hardly perceive why. He also took notice that the desk next to the door now had someone sitting at it. Thinking on it, clearly it was the young man he had seen earlier while leaving the room. Though as he thought of it Anakin couldn't quite contemplate why he was back on the slap.

As though sensing that he was being looked upon the young man turned to the Dark Lord.

He briefly ran his eyes down Vader's torso before taking off a ancient looking pair of square spectacles and spoke.

"Good you're up. It seems I underestimated your bodies ability to recover with the surgery alone. As pointed out by my Daughter you're probably hungry. So I prepared something for you."

He then gestured to Anakin's left. Looking that way, the former apprentice of Darth Sidious now looked upon the most beautiful thing his fully restored eyes had ever looked upon, besides his Wife.

On a table that had been besides the slap since before he had first awaked was a plate with a type of sandwich which contained meat, and a tall glass of some sort of beverage.

Thinking little of his lack of hands the Lord-knight used his somewhat recovered strength in the Force to bring the first solid food to his scarred lips in over 23 years.

Despite his hardships and the strange experiences of the last, who knew how long, Vader had a sense, not born of the Force. Just his finely honed instincts that said everything would be fine.

Not good, or easy. Just fine. And after everything else he had known in his last 2 decades, he could live with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, just a request of sorts. But if any of you who reads this have a better idea for the title I would really appreciate it. I'm just not happy with it. It's just not as elegant or as poetic as the titles of the books or the movies from which this story is based. So if you've got some ideas please feel free to suggest them in the Review/Comment Space Thanks.


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